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EROTIC COUPLINGS

Close Encounters Of The Nude Kind

Close Encounters Of The Nude Kind

by rodofrohit
19 min read
4.29 (20200 views)
adultfiction
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"I wasn't really naked. I simply didn't have any clothes on."

Josephine Baker

****************************************

PROLOGUE --

"God! This deadline is driving me nuts!" Pallavi exclaimed in exasperation. "It has to be the craziest assignment of my life so far!"

We were catching up with each other after a long time in the cosy comfort of my living room. Pallavi is my best friend. We have been BFF since our college days and remain best buddies till this day. If there is one person in this world whose advice I value the most, it would be her.

Me: What assignment?

Pallavi: You wouldn't believe it! A history of nudism in India -- that's the assignment.

Pallavi is a freelance journalist. I have watched her embark on some really insane projects in the past. But this one sounded really wacky.

Me: Nudism in India! What kind of a project is that?

Pallavi: It's all because of the National Nude Day coming up in July. The magazine wants to do a historical research piece to deconstruct the myth that nudism originated in the West. And they hung this project around my neck like an albatross.

Me: National Nude Day? In India? I wasn't aware of any such thing.

Pallavi: OMG! You must be the most ignorant educated person on Earth. National Nude Day is celebrated in the U.S, not in India, you moron!

Me: Okay... I wasn't aware of that. Why would they celebrate such a thing?

Pallavi: Hmm... time for some history lesson, Payal. Nudism spread through Europe after World War 1 and became established in North America during the 1930s. In fact, The American League of Physical Culture was founded in 1929 to promote nudism.

Me: Wow! 'Promote' nudity? How wacky!

Pallavi: Yes, but that's not my assignment. You see, there is this misconception in Western nations that nudism originated there -- in ancient Greece and post WW1 Europe, to be precise. My task is to deconstruct this myth with the aid of historical research.

Me: Pardon my ignorance, but if it didn't originate in the West, where did it come from?

Pallavi: The birthplace of Kama Sutra: Ancient India, where else?

Me (laughing): Ancient India? Ha ha! You must be out of your mind. Indians are prudes, and ancient Indians were even more so. We are one of the most conservative societies in the entire world...

Pallavi (interrupting me abruptly): But not in ancient and medieval times. You see, this misconception that India has always been puritanical and uptight is prevalent not just among the Western population but among the Indian community too. We have lost touch with our past.

Me: I find that difficult to believe. Are you implying that...

Pallavi (interrupting me again): I am not implying anything, just stating facts. You know about the Khajuraho Group of Temples, don't you? They were built 1000 years ago in Central India and are today regarded as a UNESCO World Heritage Site. But what are they famous for? Thousands of erotic sculptures adorning the walls of those temples. Male and female sculptures in full or partial nudity, some engaged in erotic acts -- all built in the early 11th century.

Me: Yes, I know. But...

Pallavi: Khajuraho is perhaps the only place in the entire world signifying the sensual aspect of human life boldly, through sculptures. It is an ode to erotica, a veneration of nudity that does not exist anywhere else.

Me: Hmm... that could indeed be true.

Pallavi: But nudism originated in India much earlier, in the 6th Century BCE. As a religious concept, to be exact. Both Buddhism and Jainism promoted nudity as a religious practice. Ascetic practices in both religions sometimes involved renouncing clothing. Particularly in Jainism, some monks embraced nudity as a symbol of complete detachment from the physical world.

Me: Yes, the Digambara sect. I remember now.

Pallavi: Therefore, honey, nudism is a 2500-year-old concept and its origins lie in Ancient India, not in the modern West.

Me: You seem to have all the facts on your fingertips. Why are you getting worked up about this assignment, then?

Pallavi: Because, I have to travel to remote corners of the country and document the lives and rituals practiced by these 'nude ascetics' for my article. Many of them strictly adhere to the ancient customs till this day, and almost all of them live in extremely remote places.

Me (sarcastically): Aha! Godforsaken places are a complete no-no for the fearless journalist Pallavi.

Pallavi: Well, godforsaken places should always be avoided by a lone woman traveller, journalist or not. But I have another idea. Why don't you accompany me?

Me: Why? What for? I am not a journo.

Pallavi: But you could be one -- a citizen journalist. Together, we could cover the shittiest places inhabited by the holiest of naked old men. As a rule of thumb, though, they do not entertain women visitors. Especially young urban ones like us.

Me: Is that so?

Pallavi: Yes, contact with women is prohibited as per ancient scriptures. So, we will have to pretend to be their disciples to gain entry into their world.

Me: Disciple? WTF! I am not getting into this nonsense. You go alone.

Pallavi: Relax, sugar! You have no idea what you might end up discovering. It could turn out to be an experience of a lifetime. And we just have to pretend to be their followers for a couple of days. How difficult can it be to fool a few old geezers?

Me: Naked old geezers...

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Pallavi: Whatever. Remember, some of them also claim to be immortals.

Me (laughing): Immortals? Where did you get that from? Jeez, this keeps getting better and better.

Pallavi: Let's find out together if meditating naked in a deserted forest makes one immortal. So, it's settled then. We leave tomorrow at dawn.

Thus began our epic journey into the heart of remote India. Little did we know then that Pallavi's prophecy would come true and we would end up having an adventure (and an ordeal) of a lifetime.

CHAPTER 1 -- THE (NAKED) IMMORTALS OF ELLORA

Our quest for nude monks brought us to the tiny ancient hamlet of Ellora in western India -- our first destination. Ellora is famous for its ancient caves which used to house hundreds of ascetics of the Digambara sect centuries ago. At present, only a handful of them remain there. In fact, Pallavi informed me that the total population of this sect in the entire country has now dwindled to less than 100.

Perils of modern civilization and urbanization, I thought. Nudism is now a hashtag, a trend, and not a moral choice to renounce the material world.

"The great monk lives on top of the hill behind those caves," our local tour guide informed us. "But there is no way to set up a meeting with him. He seldom meets outsiders, let alone women."

"Why so?" I was quick to ask.

"Women are regarded as fundamentally impure and immoral by this sect," the guide replied with a straight face. "Especially by immortals like the great monk."

"He is immortal? Really?" I started giggling.

"It's not funny," the guide's tone turned sombre now. "He has been around for centuries. Most people living in nearby villages, including my parents and grandparents, have seen him around forever. Always old, but never aged a bit. Legend has it that he attained enlightenment centuries ago and has stopped aging since then."

"How could most people get to 'see' him if he seldom interacts with outsiders?" it was Pallavi's turn to be curious this time.

"Well, he has a handful of disciples who meet him regularly. They claim to have never seen him age or fall sick. It's like he was born old, but never got older. The legend of his immortality has been going around since my grandparent's time."

"Could you please introduce us to one of these 'disciples'?" asked Pallavi. "We are here to become his followers. We would like to join his cult."

The tour guide obliged. He had nothing to gain by refusing our request. He took us outside one of the many caves dotting the landscape and asked us to wait while he went inside. He came out a few minutes later and nodded affirmatively.

"This is the great monk's head disciple," he warned us before we stepped inside the cave. "He practices complete nudity in accordance with his religious beliefs, so don't be alarmed. And please be polite in your speech."

Armed with this information and the flashlight of our smartphones, me and Pallavi entered the dark damp cave with trepidation. However, it was not a shithole as I had expected it to be. Turned out, that the entire pathway from the entrance to the inner sanctum of the cave was neatly swept and clean. The air was filled with the fragrance of incense.

The dark narrow pathway led us into a small clearing which was surrounded by rocks and pebbles. A single candle burned silently at the centre of the clearing alongside dozens of incense sticks. And right behind the candle sat a man with his legs crossed and eyes closed. He did not have a stitch on his body and it appeared as though he was lost in meditation.

"Excuse me?" Pallavi spoke first to draw his attention. The man slowly opened his eyes and moved his palms to cover his crotch.

"What brings you here?" he spoke in a gentle soothing voice which sounded neither too old nor too young. He was probably middle-aged, I thought.

"Sir, we have come all the way from Delhi to be your disciple," Pallavi tried to sound as reverential as possible. "Please allow us to become a part of your community."

"That's impossible," he replied without the hint of any emotion. "Women cannot be accepted in our sect."

"But Sir," pleaded Pallavi, "we wish to renounce the world, live a pious life, and attain enlightenment. Kindly help us."

"Enlightenment! What can you possibly know about it?" his tone sounded sarcastic this time. "For our sect, women cannot become ascetics as they could not be naked, which is an essential component of the path to liberation."

Pallavi went mum after hearing the word "naked". I realised we had not incorporated this possibility into our plan. But going back without a result would mean a day's journey gone to waste. Not to mention a personal setback for Pallavi. So, I decided to step in.

"Sir, we would be eternally grateful if we could personally request the great monk himself to induct us in your society," I pleaded with folded hands. "Whatever he decides will be final."

"You think his decision will differ from mine? For centuries, we have followed a certain custom, certain protocols. Exceptions cannot be made overnight, for no apparent reason," he replied. "But since you have come a long way, I will talk to him. I cannot guarantee that he will be ready to meet you, though."

He stood up stark naked without any warning. Me and Pallavi had to hurriedly turn our gaze elsewhere. But I did manage to catch the slightest glimpse of his crotch covered in dense black hair. And his bare bottom when he left the inner sanctum to go outside.

An hour went by before he returned. This time, we did not turn our heads to avoid staring at his nudity. We just turned our face sideways and glanced at him through the corner of our eyes periodically.

"You are in luck," he announced to our surprise. "He has agreed to grant you an audience. Please follow me."

Me and Pallavi stared at each other. We were going to meet one of the holiest monks in the country. An 'immortal'. A nude legend. If only he would accept our proposal...

"He has never met a woman in his life since attaining salvation," the disciple interrupted my thoughts. "So, please keep distance and avoid direct eye contact. And remember to speak politely even when he is rude with you."

A long narrow dirt road meandered its way behind the caves through a riverbank. The place looked uninhabited and completely desolate. Pallavi blurted out, "Do you bathe in this river? It appears so calm and gentle."

"We do not take baths. The saint is not allowed to bathe. For that will mean fixing our attention on the body," replied the head disciple leaving us speechless.

*******************************************************

High on top of a hill, overlooking the river that ran on the outskirts of the caves, lived the naked saint Acharya. He is Immortal. He ran an Ashram for his disciples on the riverbank at the bottom of the hill. And lived alone on the hilltop.

Acharya was a true saint. Never married, never had children. Never touched a woman, never committed a sin. He kept his body and mind pure and free of lust and temptation. He renounced clothing.

His pure and serene world got shattered that day by the unannounced arrival of 2 'impure' babes from Delhi. Me and Pallavi climbed up the hill and arrived at his doorstep gasping for breath with the head disciple leading the way.

"Filthy whores! What brings you here?" screamed Acharya. Then, turning to his disciple, he ordered curtly, "You may leave now."

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Me and Pallavi stopped short in our tracks. Did he call us 'whores'? We stood dumbfounded as the disciple whispered before leaving, "Remember what I had told you. Always be polite, even if he is rude."

"Holy Saint," Pallavi bowed down before him, "We have come to lead a pious and honourable life. We want to atone for our sins. We wish to become your followers."

The holy monk's old eyes caught a glimpse of Pallavi's deep cleavage and milky white boobs as she bowed before him. Pallavi is well-endowed even by Indian standards, so her luscious tits tumbled out of her blouse the moment she bent down.

"You cannot lead a pious life. You are a filthy slut," yelled Acharya again. He hated women, despised young women, and had nothing but contempt for Urban Young Women.

"Please allow us to redeem ourselves," Pallavi pleaded with folded hands. "Please accept us as your disciples. We want to devote ourselves to you. Give us a chance."

The monk was old, but his eyes missed nothing. Like the ample size and melon-like shape of Pallavi's breasts. Like her wide and rounded ass which appeared wider when she bent down. Even the solitary open button on her blouse did not escape his notice.

"You have something open on your..." he pointed at the open button. He was a saint, couldn't utter the word 'blouse'.

Pallavi quickly buttoned up her shirt. But the old man was not satisfied.

"You two have marks of sin all over your body. Purify yourself first. Take a dip in the river and wash off the impurities. Then come to me for your initiation," he commanded.

We obeyed his command and ran to the river. We could not believe our ears. Did he say 'initiation'? Did he agree to induct us in his sect so easily? Overriding centuries of tradition? Unbelievable!

"Listen Payal," Pallavi jumped up in excitement, "we will do exactly as we are told. Okay? We will obey every command of his. He is one of the holiest and most revered men in India. This will be great for my research."

Pallavi took off her blouse and took a couple of dips in the ice cold water of the river. I followed suit. The freezing cold water turned our nipples pointy and erect.

We put on our clothes on our wet bodies since we didn't have a towel, and returned to Acharya's house in that condition.

The old man was shocked to his core when he saw our clothes clinging to our wet bodies. His sharp gaze did not miss noticing our dark pointy nipples poking out under the wet fabrics. Our hips were also visible under the wet skirts we were both wearing. Droplets of water fell down my cleavage and ran down my thighs -- all visible, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"Holy Saint, we didn't carry anything to dry ourselves with," Pallavi said apologetically. "But we have washed ourselves clean."

"Your conduct is disgraceful and disgusting," shouted Acharya. "Now, take off your clothes and sit down over there with your legs crossed, and hands folded and joined together. Both of you."

Take off our clothes? Did we hear him right? I hesitated and glanced at Pallavi.

"What are you waiting for?" the old monk screamed again. "Don't you know that you have to renounce all clothing to get initiated?"

Pallavi made a quick eye gesture asking me to comply. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined a situation like this -- disrobing in front of a naked old strange man in the middle of nowhere for a project that I had nothing to do with.

Hesitatingly, we both obeyed and removed our clothes, leaving the undies on. But we had underestimated the holy man. Even before we could take a step forward, he raised his hand indicating us to remain standing at our respective positions.

"What are those that you are wearing?" he pointed at my bra and panties.

"Um... undergarments," I replied meekly, unsure of his intentions.

"Get rid of those vile pieces of cloth," he yelled angrily. "Remove them right now."

I stood frozen in fear and disbelief. This is not what I had signed up for. I looked at Pallavi and whispered, "I am not doing this anymore. You shouldn't either. Let's leave."

"Babe, please just be patient for a while," Pallavi replied in whispers too. "We are so close to getting initiated in his cult, and we will be gone tomorrow anyways. Please just comply. One final time, for my sake, please!"

"Strip naked? Sorry, that's out of the question," I sneered.

"Please!" Pallavi kept imploring. "I will owe you big time. Eternally."

"What are you 2 filthy sluts whispering about?" Acharya's offensive remarks resumed. "Do you need help?"

"Pardon us, Holy Saint!" Pallavi tried to pacify him. "We are complying. This very moment."

Before I could react and bat an eyelid, she had unhooked her bra and rolled down her panties. She glanced at me while removing both from her body and threw them on the ground.

Left with no choice and no sign of support from my friend, I had to follow suit. As I began to curse her silently, my eyes fell on Acharya's gaze. He seemed to be staring lustily at my clean-shaven cooch with his dirty old dark eyes. I cowered in shame and covered my crotch with my palms. But that was a momentary respite.

"Good. Now, sit down in front of me, both of you," the old saint ordered.

We folded our hands in a 'thank you' gesture and sat down on 2 mats placed at Acharya's feet. While Pallavi sat cross-legged as demanded by him, I was too shy to expose my pussy to his view. Therefore, I sat with my legs closed.

"Sit in a lotus pose, cross-legged, like your friend," the old man reprimanded me in a stern voice. "You city sluts need to be taught everything from scratch!"

I took a deep breath, glanced at Pallavi, and slowly opened my legs. The moment I crossed them and settled down on the mat, the naked old man began to stare lustily at my bare snatch. I felt extremely uneasy and covered my crotch with my palms.

"Take your hands off, fold them like your friend has done," hissed the immortal man. "There is no shame in nudity in our world."

Saying this, he flashed a momentary dirty smile, the first of many more to come.

I did as I was told and stole a glance at Pallavi. Her large pendulous boobs were swaying sideways with each movement of her body. Her white thighs and freshly-trimmed dark pubes lay bare before the dark evil gaze of the great monk. But his stare was fixed on the clean-shaven valley between my legs. While Pallavi has bigger tits, I have a narrower slit and swollen pussy lips that most men find irresistible. At least 'mortal' men do. Acharya's reaction proved that even 'immortal' men would find it difficult to not stare at my secret spot.

He started chanting mantras in Sanskrit, but got distracted again and again. He just couldn't keep his eyes off our nude flesh.

He felt something he had never felt before. His ancient cock which had been sleeping for eternity had suddenly woken up.

Shaken and scared of sinful thoughts taking over his mind, Acharya tried to hide his erection with his hands. He told us that our initiation was almost over, and only one last act remained to be performed before we could be fully ordained.

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